Page 135 of The Monster and the Masochist

She wouldn’t be here because she would be dead.

And that was just not something I was willing to accept.

“Don’t leave the house.” It was both an order and a threat. Happily, Theo just nodded, giving me a small smile.

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

My eye twitched at the ‘hope to die,’ but I let it go.

I didn’t bother telling her not to drink. I’d dumped the last bottle of wine and emptied out my liquor cabinet while she’d been sleeping. I now had a box of booze in the trunk of my car that I planned to drop off at Fairview on my way home. There was always a risk she might leave to get more, but I would know if she left the condo. I’d given the doorman strict instructions to text me if she tried to leave.

“We’re going to talk more when I get home,” I warned as I slipped into my Christian Louboutins. “And you will tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”

Theo watched me get ready to leave, and she looked so sad and broken that I almost felt bad about being firm with her.

But that’s what she needed, so I stayed strong.

“I’ll try,” she whispered, and I gave her a curt nod before calling up the elevator.

‘If she tries to leave again, I’m tying her to the bed.’

I sighed, pressing the door close button firmly.

‘If she tries to leave again, I might let you.’

When it rains, it fucking pours.

Of course, work was a shit show after almost two consecutive nights of zero sleep.

Nolan and I had been holed up in my office for hours, dealing with crisis after crisis. Three more girls had come forward against the reverend overnight, and the case was quickly spiraling out of control.

It didn’t help that my heart wasn’t really in it.

With each new amended complaint, I found myself losing more and more control over my monster.

I wasn’t the only one who was clearly not doing well with this case. Nolan looked almost green as we dug into the workings of the ‘church’ that the man we were supposed to be defending had founded.

The more we learned, the clearer it became that he was running some sort of ‘conversion camp’ disguised as a mentorship program.

It had all the markers of a cult, and with each new file came new horrors. Slowly, I began to feel sicker and sicker.

The newest alleged victim of the reverend’s mentorship program was only fourteen years old. As I read through the list of ‘tactics’ she was subjected to, my coffee churned in my stomach.

Memories of being locked in a cage in my mother’s basement were brewing to the surface, summoned by the long list of despicable accusations these women were placing against our client.

“Cassandra!”

“What!?” I snapped, jerking my head up to focus on Nolan, who was looking frustrated. One of our administrative assistants was standing next to him with her phone out.

“Trish wants to know if we want anything from the cafe. She’s doing a run.”

I glared at them and raised my cup, indicating that I was all set and the interruption was not welcome.

I didn’t miss Trish’s exaggerated eye roll or the muffled ‘cunt’ as she made her way out of the office.

Anger flashed across Nolan’s face, and it looked like he was going to say something about it, but I held up my hand to stop him.

My head was fucking pounding.